Elgan speaks
...and her words thunder across the land

The Beatles had a point.

Friday, Feb. 22, 2008
8:21 p.m.
I believe I have reached that point in my life where I have to acknowledge that life is a journey, that it unfolds at birth and wraps up at death and that I am on it, that it is one-way and while you can look back to where you’ve been (why does this remind me of lyrics to some song or other?), you can’t ever go there again. I mean, I always knew this, but today it struck me that this is my story, too.

As Hubby and I were driving home from the university I saw a woman walking up the hill with a small child in front of her, all snowsuited against the arctic cold we’ve been experiencing here recently, and said, “We were once parents of small children.” Hubby replied, “I miss those times.” I don’t know that I miss those times. I remember being frustrated a lot at my inability to communicate with those same small children and looking forward to the day when I would be able to have real conversations with them. That day came and now those children are adults and are moving out of the nest and into their own lives, becoming main characters in their own stories and not just subsidiary characters in mine. I guess I do miss those times, too. But I can’t go back.

I just remembered the lyrics. They’re from J0ni MitcheII’s Circle Game:

And the seasons, they go round and round,
And the painted ponies go up and down.
We’re captive on the carousel of time:
We can’t return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game.

And now, as we plan ahead for our own diminishing future, for retirement and eventually death (although we’re not actually planning for that), I wonder why we bother, what the main point to living is if everything eventually ends. I suppose this is the big question, the whole basis for religion and belief in an afterlife and the certainty that some people share that our earthly life is not our only one. But that mumbo jumbo has never appealed to me. I truly believe that this is all we get.

I am convinced that the real meaning to life is love, that that is the one single thing that makes our brief sojourn here worthwhile. I cannot love enough, it seems, and I cannot love too much. I sit in front of my computer, seeking the right words to express what I am feeling, and wishing that I could embrace everyone who means everything to me. Life is short, but love is all you need.

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